The Surprise
by YulianaHenderson
Summary: "'What is it you're offering, exactly' Bertram sighed and sat down. 'For the extraordinary among us, the extra rich or peculiar, we offer a natural way to pass over to the other side. Don't we all wish to pass over peacefully and quietly, without so much fuss'" Jisbon. VERY AU BE WARNED. I hope still IC despite the AU-rating. Rated T for mentions of suicide, but they're brief!


**A/N: Alright. So this story has given me some nightmares on multiple occasions... I really liked the idea, and I really like 90% of it, it's just, the ending... I couldn't really make it work. But it's been sitting among my works since the end of August, and the longer I refused to upload it, the more likelier it would become that I would never post it. And I really wanted to post it, if only for the first 90%. So, there you go. You just tell me if it's not good enough, and I'll edit and/or remove if necessary.**

 **This story is heavily inspired, if not based on a Dutch movie with a similar title only then in Dutch ('De Surprise'), which in its turn was inspired by/based on the short story with the same title from Belcampo's 'De Ideale Dahlia'. I saw the movie and I was in love, because it's so special and I have never really before seen such a movie. I hope I was able to sort of portray the feeling that movie gave me!**

 **This story is mainly romantic, a bit of hurt/comfort in there, but it's like my other AU's: it focuses on Jane and Lisbon meeting each other for the first time and then falling in love. Hope you'll enjoy!**

 **Trigger warning: There are a couple of mentions of suicide in this story, as well as character death. Be warned, be safe!**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

* * *

 _ **'The Surprise'**_

He stared at the roaring fire in front of him. The red and yellow flames waved frantically around, as though they were personally trying to warn people of their heat. _Stay away, stay away!_

It wasn't any different from himself. He might not have arms of fire to keep people away, but his face usually did the trick.

"Patrick, it's time."

He turned to the sound of the voice, finding his dear friend look at him. He nodded.

Wayne Rigsby studied him carefully, but Patrick Jane wasn't faltered, not even a little. The tall man looked threatening but he wouldn't hurt a fly, not even by accident. He would always make sure of that. Perhaps that was the reason they were such good friends - he never needed to fear that Rigsby betrayed him.

"Do you feel anything?"

Jane shook his head.

"Nothing? No fear, happiness, relief even?"

"Nothing, Wayne. I wouldn't have expected anything to change that."

"I would have wanted for you to feel… _something_. Anything."

Jane shook his head, again. Rigsby sighed.

"Okay. Well, best of luck, Patrick Jane."

"You too, Wayne Rigsby."

With that, Rigsby turned around and walked away, about to start a new chapter in his life, with his lovely wife. Jane did want the best for his giant friend, but he had never been good at expressing that, not for the past few years anyway.

He sighed. He couldn't wait to be home now. He was done pretending.

~...~

Everywhere in his estate was he greeted by employees, who were all equally happy to see him. He supposed he was a good employer, but it didn't matter anymore. He sat down in the living room with the drink he'd had in his possession for many years for this specific situation, and settled in. Just as he was about to take his first sip, the door opened.

"Mr. Jane?"

"Geez, Minelli, can't you knock?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I just wanted to check up on you."

Jane sighed and put the drink down. He pinched the bridge of his nose, relieving some of his headache.

"Are you okay, Sir?"

"Of course, Minelli. Why would I not be alright?"

Minelli didn't say anything, but shook his head eventually. "No reason. Would you like some tea, Sir?"

Jane nodded. Minelli took the other glass from him, and it wasn't until he was out of the room that Jane realized he had needed that drink.

Oh well. His tragic but meaningless death could wait until after tea.

Jane checked his mail, always preferring to do it himself, but he skipped most of the letters, knowing 80% of it was spam mail. Yet this time, he came across a specifically odd looking letter, which instantly sparked his curiosity.

 _Specialized in your journey._

Since when did he receive letters from travel agencies? He kept reading.

 _We take special care in ensuring that your last journey will be your best journey._

So a funeral service of some sort. The layout of the brochure looked appealing, and Jane was interested. He hadn't thought about the days after his death, even if he had thought of the whole situation for years. He supposed he didn't want his remaining friends to be burdened with the brunt of arranging a funeral, so he might as well arrange it for them.

After his tea, he took one of his classic cars and drove to their headquarters. He was met by a giant building, extremely modern, not a hint of personal touch to be found. He touched his wedding band briefly and stepped inside.

"Good afternoon, Sir," the receptionist stated. "How may I help you?"

"What do you mean with 'last journey'?"

The man looked at him with glassy eyes, yet focused on his screen quickly.

"Ah, Mr. Jane, isn't it? I'll call someone down to explain the situation."

"You do that."

Jane wondered how they knew his name, but he guessed that it wasn't so difficult seeing as he owned the estate that was used on all postcards of their city.

A little later, an impeccably dressed gentleman walked out of the elevator, with a bright smile on his lips.

"Mr. Jane! We were expecting you! Would you care to join me to my office?"

Jane was known never to be surprised by anything, but the man's confession did catch him by surprise - they had been expecting him?

The man introduced himself once inside his office, which perfectly matched his suit in that it was impeccable, perfect and modern, every little detail attended to.

"I'm Gale Bertram. You can call me Bertram. Perhaps you've heard of me."

"Can't say I have."

Bertram seemed disappointed, but he was quite skilled at hiding it. Not from Jane - nothing really escaped his attention.

"I understand that you're interested in our selection of final journeys. Can we assist you in that?"

"What is it you're offering, exactly?"

Bertram sighed and sat down, motioning for Jane to do the same thing.

"For the extraordinary among us, the extra rich or peculiar, we offer a natural way to pass over to the other side. I'm sure you know all about it, but dying brings such a mess and paperwork. Especially if the passing over was… unnatural. Don't we all wish to pass over peacefully and quietly, without so much fuss? Well, that is what we offer."

Jane let the information sink in.

"Is that even legal?"

Bertram moved his head from one side to the other, a small smirk forming on his lips. "Not necessarily. Which is why our contract is… finite."

Now that seemed interesting to Jane.

"So there's no going back?"

"Exactly. Once signed, death is imminent and unavoidable."

Jane stood. "Perfect. Where do I sign?"

Bertram laughed and joined him, shaking his hand.

"I'll first show you our options, so we can soon seal the deal."

He pressed a button and a couple of men in black suits walked inside, all carrying posters and brochures.

"We have our most popular option; dying in the presence of loved ones. All natural, of course. But by far my favorite option is this; the surprise."

He made one of the men roll out a poster while another handed Jane a brochure.

"The how and when are completely unknown to the traveler, which I believe is the most natural way to travel. Life, after all, is full of surprises."

"And you can do this as soon as possible? Sooner rather than later."

"Of course, Mr. Jane. We'll make sure your journey is completely customized to your wishes."

One of the men in black handed him a paper, which was obviously the contract. Jane signed without thinking about it. The business seemed shady, but his money was soon lost to him anyway, and once he was dead, he was dead. Not a worry in the world.

"Perfect. We'll show you our wide collection of coffins to choose from. Then we'll set your journey in motion."

Jane nodded and followed one of the men inside an elevator.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Jane."

"Likewise, Mr. Bertram."

The elevator doors closed.

"Religion?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you a Jew? Muslim?"

"Oh. Atheist."

"Floor five."

The man remained silent the remaining elevator ride. Once the doors opened again, the man smiled and waved with his arm into the direction of the room.

"Just shout when you need us."

Jane nodded and exited the elevator.

Inside, he indeed found a lot of coffins. He sighed. It all got so real all of a sudden, and he wasn't having cold feet, not even close. Yet looking for coffins made it last so long.

They did look boring, though. He wanted what little people were left to have something interesting to look at.

"I changed my mind, I'm a Catholic."

The elevator doors opened, with the same man from before still inside. He escorted Jane to another floor.

Once there, he found some coffins he guessed he could work with. A door opened on the other side of the room, and a woman stepped inside, roughly the same age as him. Her dark hair fell like a waterfall around her pale face, her figure slim but obviously well-trained. Perhaps she was into sports, but then she might come outside more often, and she wouldn't be so pale as a result. No, another profession that required her to be fit but also forced her to be inside often. Police officer, perhaps?

He turned off his thoughts and looked at her moving across the room. Was she a traveler, too?

She noticed him eventually.

"Do you have this coffin in black?"

He was silent for a while, thinking about her question.

"I don't think so."

She stepped closer, and then she seemed to realize that he didn't work there.

"Oh. You're not an employee."

"Afraid not."

She looked around her, pausing for a few seconds. She had a sort of melancholy air around her, exactly what you might expect from someone who thinks they should pass over.

"So you're a traveler too, huh?"

He nodded.

"And you."

She nodded.

"What option did you choose?" he asked her.

"The surprise."

"Oh, me too."

"I thought it was better. More… natural."

He nodded. He realized in that moment that he hadn't even introduced himself. He had such poor manners these days.

"I'm Patrick Jane."

She shook his outstretched hand.

"Teresa Lisbon."

"Nice to meet you."

The elevator ding pulled them out of their conversation.

"I forgot," she whispered. "Travelers are not allowed to talk to each other."

Just as that sentence sank in, two of the men in black entered the room.

"Mr. Jane… Ms. Lisbon. Have you been able to make a choice?"

Jane cast a quick look around the room. His eyes landed on one particular coffin, not too flashy or weirdly decorated.

"This one."

"The 1998 hardwood Sterling. Excellent choice, Mr. Jane. If you'll follow me, we'll seal the deal."

1998, it was the year that... Jane nodded. When the man left, he turned to the woman beside him.

"Well, Ms. Lisbon, I wish you a pleasant journey."

"You too, Mr. Jane. Take care."

He smiled at her, and she returned his smile, even if it was quite obviously a nervous one, awkward even. Even though she seemed like a nice person, it was obvious to him that she was going to carry this through. She wanted to travel, just like him.

~...~

He returned home feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew now that he didn't need to worry about him being a burden after his death, because everything was set in stone and his friends didn't need to do anything.

He passed a bunch of his employees while he drove up to his house.

"Minelli?"

Said man showed up almost instantly, as though he had been waiting for Jane to show up.

"Yes, Mr. Jane?"

"There are too many people around. You can let them all go."

"Let them go? Where to?"

"Home. Their families, perhaps. I'll pay them for the rest of the year so they can get settled."

Minelli knew never to ask Jane why he did things, because not even the man himself could explain most of his actions.

"I'm going away… traveling."

"Oh? That sounds wonderful, Mr. Jane. Where are you going?"

"I, uh, haven't worked out any details. But it's going to be for a long time. Which is why I think it's unnecessary to have them maintain the estate if there isn't going to be anybody to appreciate it."

Minelli nodded. "As you wish, Sir."

"You can leave too, Minelli."

"I couldn't possibly leave, Mr. Jane."

Very well. Jane couldn't force him to leave. Just like Jane, Virgil Minelli didn't have a lot to live for anymore, although the older man had more peace with it than Jane.

"I'll send them off."

"Perfect. Don't forget to thank them for their service. I appreciate their efforts."

Later that afternoon, he watched them all leave, and he sighed. He didn't want them to find him after passing over. He didn't want to burden them with that.

~...~

He slept quite well knowing that his wish would soon be granted. He wondered if perhaps his journey would start that very night, but he thought that it was quite unlikely. Still, he dreamt of the other side, even if he didn't believe in one.

He woke up a little giddy with excitement. He didn't bother changing out of his pajamas, simply took a chair with him while going outside, and sat down, looking around him.

"Come on!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "I'm here! Do it!"

No response. When after a few minutes, he repeated his pleading and still got no reaction whatsoever, he sighed and leaned back. Perhaps the universe was right, he should have more patience. He had waited for years so he supposed he could wait a little longer.

Suddenly, he heard the phone ring. Not to worry, Minelli would pick it up.

Minelli. He wasn't here right now.

 _Shit_.

He jumped up and ran as fast he could, for these days he never knew which calls were important. Maybe his journey would be set in motion by him answering the phone.

After the sixth ring, he answered, wondering before he picked up who it was, considering most people these days would hang up after the fifth.

"Patrick Jane," he barely managed to breathe.

"Oh! Hi. Uh… it's Teresa Lisbon. I just wanted to know, if, uh… but I guess by you answering the phone, I have my answer."

Of all the people who could have called him, he could not have expected it to be her. Honestly, she hadn't crossed his mind once since meeting her, and it wasn't her fault. He had been caught up with different things.

But he had crossed her mind, otherwise she wouldn't have called.

"How are you?" he asked her, in an attempt to be nice. He really did want to be nice, but it wasn't worth as much to him now as it used to be. He might be gone that same afternoon. Why bother trying to make friends?

"Alive." He heard her let out a humorless chuckle. "I would have thought maybe one of us would have passed over."

He let that sentence hang in the air.

"Were you able to find a black coffin the way you wanted?"

"Yes, it's even eco-friendly. After 10 years, there will be nothing left."

"Well, would you look at that."

Something caught her attention, and suddenly she spoke again.

"Well, I wish you a safe journey and the best of luck on your next destination."

Just as sudden as she had called, she had hung up the phone. He was left uttering the same words as her, even if he knew she wouldn't hear it.

Why had she called him? It made him wonder once again why she had signed this contract, too. Was she lonely? Was she perhaps orphaned like him? What made her want to step out of this life?

He called Mr. Bertram. He didn't want any distractions anymore from his ultimate wish.

"Ah, Mr. Jane. How are you?"

"Not okay, Mr. Bertram. I have been sitting here waiting for hours!"

"Oh, I see. Don't."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't sit around waiting for it, Mr. Jane. It's imperative that you keep living your regular life. Don't worry, your departure has already been scheduled."

"When?"

"Goodbye, Mr. Jane."

Keep living like usual. That was a joke, considering he hardly lived at all.

He walked outside and saw Minelli leave in his car.

"Wait! Minelli!"

The man stopped on pure instinct. He rolled down the window. Something bothered Jane, something about Minelli didn't seem right.

"Why are you still here?"

"I have nowhere else to go, Mr. Jane."

"Fair enough. What do I normally do on a day like this?"

Minelli stared at him, but eventually answered.

"You go dancing."

~...~

It wasn't difficult to find Teresa Lisbon's workspace - one Google search brought all of her history to him, of 'Saint Teresa' having saved countless of lives while working in San Francisco, to her solving countless of crime cases down in Austin, Texas. She was apparently a bit of a hero wherever she went.

He waited until she came into the cafeteria, where he approached her.

She seemed startled to see him, but still pleased, perhaps.

"Mr. Jane. What a pleasure."

He nodded.

"How did you find me?"

"I know how to use Google."

She chuckled and nodded.

"I have no doubt about that." She paused for a while, then she frowned. "Are you my surprise?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, are you here for my surprise? Are you my means of departing?"

"Oh. I hadn't even thought of that. No, I don't think I am." He paused. "Are you mine?"

"Nope. Maybe we were destined to pass over together. I don't know if they schedule two travelers together."

He nodded. She suddenly seemed to remember the situation at hand.

"Why are you here?"

"I was wondering if you would join me to dance."

"Dance? Mr. Jane, I have work to do."

"Ms. Lisbon, you might be gone by tonight. What do you have to lose?"

She took in his reasoning, and he knew his arguments were hardly ever off, so the only possible answer was to agree.

She took a few steps back and looked at him, from head to toe, inspecting him.

"You know what? You're right. What does it matter?"

She smiled and so did he, and he led her to his car, where she gasped.

"Is that a 1953 Buick Skylark? It's in excellent shape, I'm impressed."

She had knowledge of vintage cars. He was impressed and a tad confused. He let it slide. He would just focus on living his regular life so he could pass over quickly.

~...~

The lunchroom was filled with old people, trying their best to dance and have fun but it didn't always work out. At least they didn't break a hip.

He and Ms. Lisbon had his favorite table on the edge of the dance floor, so they could observe everyone passing by with ease. He had ordered them pastries and a cup of tea. She had told him she preferred coffee.

"They serve coffee," he had started, "but not well. It resembles sewage water more than coffee."

She chuckled and had settled for the tea.

"Do you come here often, Mr. Jane?"

He nodded. "Every Friday, with my dearest friend Mr. Rigsby. But he is gone as of a few days ago."

Her eyes widened but she tried to hide it.

"Did he… pass over, too?"

"Oh. No, he didn't. He just left. He is starting a new life in England, with his wife."

"I see." She took a sip of her tea. "Of course, it's not my place to ask, but… is that the reason you want to…"

"No, not at all." He shouldn't share his past with her. She would only get more sad. "I've wanted to do it for years. But while Mr. Rigsby was here, I always thought it was inappropriate."

"That's sweet of you. Considerate."

It was? He had never looked at it like that, had always considered himself selfish for even thinking about ending it.

He looked at the people dancing, avoiding her eyes. She started talking.

"I've lost my mother at a young age. My father killed himself not long after. Our neighbors were willing to take me and my brothers in. They adopted us years later."

"That's good."

She nodded. "It's good. And they meant well, they still do. But somehow… I always feel like a burden to them. Like… the mere thought of them taking care of me is too much."

He knew that feeling. Anybody who ever cared for him, cared too much. They shouldn't have done so.

"Would you like to dance?"

"What?"

"Maybe you would like to dance with me? Just for a few minutes. They say I'm a good dancer."

She stared at him for a few seconds, then laughed nervously.

"I believe you. It's just, I'm not such a good dancer…"

She was interrupted by an old friend of Jane's, who spoke amicably to them.

"Jane, old fellow, I'm an old man but my lady is two years younger and it shows. Could you accompany her? If, of course, the young lady doesn't mind."

He looked at Ms. Lisbon, and she shook her head.

"By all means, go ahead."

From the corner of his eyes, Jane saw Ms. Lisbon look at him dancing, talking with Mr. Rainer. Jane hoped that the old guy would not tell her anything of his past. He wouldn't mind if she never got to know him thoroughly. Perhaps she would be disappointed, or scared, or both.

~...~

Even though it was raining, they chose to walk back to his car, umbrellas firmly in hand. He hadn't danced with her, but he hadn't needed to - Mrs. Rainer had kept him occupied for the entirety of their stay.

"Have you ever thought about life after death?"

"No, not really."

"I firmly believe," she continued, "that this world we are looking at right now, is nothing more than a floor. And that when you die, you go one floor up. A higher level, as it were. I hope it's a better level, a world where things are better for me."

 _Better for me?_

She stopped and turned to him. "I just feel… like this floor is not really for me. I guess there are some things out there, that could work. But not for me."

She paused. He hadn't pegged her to be so religious, but considering she was wearing a big, antique cross around her neck, he shouldn't have been surprised.

"Do you know that feeling?"

"I'm afraid so."

She sighed and continued walking.

"So… in the hopes of things getting better, you decided to get into the elevator. Only somebody needs to press the button."

"That's an interesting way of looking at it. I guess you're right. Anyway, I'm too… I don't know, scared? To press the button myself."

Halfway through her sentence, he heard something from his left side, as they crossed the street - it was the telltale horn of a truck. He turned, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing, for atop of the steep hill that was the street, a truck came rushing down the pavement, not stopping for anyone or anything. Jane guessed the brakes broke.

"Ms. Lisbon?"

"Hmm?"

"I believe I have very good news."

He returned his eyes to look at the truck, which had picked up speed now and was still showing no sign that it would stop soon.

"Maybe we _will_ go together," he stated.

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Bertram said that my departure has already been scheduled. I think that means it could happen any moment now. It's a big truck. What do you think? 25, 30 tons, that's excluding the cargo, of course."

Ms. Lisbon came to stand beside him, and he could tell from the corner of his eyes that she was first looking at him, hesitantly, before looking at the truck, too.

"Oh dear. This will hurt."

"Just for a brief moment. The impact will probably kill you instantly."

The truck was now likely at the top of the speed it could reach in this crowded street full of parked cars, but it had to do.

"Mr. Jane?"

"Ms. Lisbon?"

"Can I hold your hand?"

"Of course."

And there they stood, hand in hand, looking at the massive truck coming closer and closer, until he could almost feel the wind rushing past him, the bumper kissing his forehead. Yet one thing distracted him from this ultimate goal of his - the feel of her tiny hand in his, shaking slightly, as though she feared death, and maybe she did. But she felt so warm, inviting, like some bits of her soul pouring right into his.

Did he want to die?

He didn't have time to answer the question, as the truck rushed past in an attempt to avoid them, before crashing with full speed into the lake behind them.

He was still left dumbfounded as he heard the truck slowly sinking into the deep, cold water, when he realized that he was still alive. The deep, cold water that was supposed to bring him down, had only served as a buffer for the unfortunate truck driver who had one hell of an awful day.

He turned towards where the truck had disappeared, looking over the edge. Perhaps they were lucky enough that the driver came floating up instantly, and Ms. Lisbon already jumped into action, grabbing the man's hand and pulling him out of the water.

"Are you two okay?"

Ms. Lisbon answered for them. Jane still couldn't believe it. He really thought that this was a sign, that this was the saving that he had been waiting for all these painful years, yet all it had turned out to be a giant disappointment.

The driver ran away, perhaps because he was afraid that he would be to blame for attempted manslaughter, and it left Jane alone with Ms. Lisbon. He didn't have time to register the driver.

"Ms. Lisbon, I'm sorry I scared you." He looked over his shoulder to the lake. "I really thought that this…"

"I'm sorry, too. But perhaps it's not a good idea to remain standing here."

She was right. As they walked away from what had now turned into a crime scene, blaring sirens of police cars passed them by. The rain had stopped now, but it was still chilly. He noticed he was slowly coming back to earth a little, not even having realized that he had left.

"Mr. Jane, if that truck had not diverted its path, I don't know if I would have remained standing there. You remained very calm. Does your adrenaline not function or something?"

"My what?"

"Your adrenaline. You know, that feeling you get when you're in a tough situation and you start to get a little more excited so you can operate better."

"Oh, that. No, I don't think that happens often."

"Oh come on, secretly you thought it was as scary and exciting as I did."

"I wish I did. I wish I found anything exciting or scary, but I never do."

"Not at all? You've never been, I don't know, rock climbing and feared falling?"

"I've been rock climbing, but I wasn't afraid of falling, no."

"So… you didn't feel… _anything_?"

Well, he'd felt something, but he wasn't even sure what it was himself. Not the fact that he had nearly died, because that had happened often before, but rather the moment when she had grabbed his hand.

"I'm afraid not."

She sat down on the passenger seat of one of his many vintage cars, and he remembered that she had liked the look of it. Maybe he could show her his collection? If, of course, Mr. Bertram allowed them a few more hours.

She got back up, looking at him from over the car's roof. He hardly saw her due to her height.

"You can admit it, you know. That you felt something. You don't need to be ashamed."

"I'm not." He sighed, and thought of his next words. "You should look at it as something between me and the world. Like a glass wall. I can see everything, but nothing ever reaches me."

"That's horrible," she stated, sympathy pouring from her lips. She was really sweet.

"It's the reason I… no, one of two reasons I would like to travel. And I'm really looking forward to it as well."

Something sad crossed her eyes, but he didn't give it any more thought.

On the way to her office building, she gave him different instructions. She wanted to go home, so he would drop her off there.

"Teresa, it was an honor. I can't think of anybody else with whom I would rather almost end up under a truck with."

She smiled, showing some dimples in her cheeks, likely there from a lifetime full of smiling and laughing. At least, he hoped.

"The honor was all mine."

"And if I don't see you: good luck on your journey, and I hope you will get everything you're wishing for on the next floor."

"Thank you. You too, have a nice journey. And drive safely."

~...~

He woke up the next morning feeling positive that today would be the day that he would cross over. He had done everything Mr. Bertram had asked him to do, so he was certain of himself.

The day started slowly, as he prepared breakfast for himself, a task he didn't usually do himself, but considering he had sent all of his staff away, there was no one else to do it for him. No matter, he could make breakfast. The TV was turned on for background music, also something he didn't usually do, but the overwhelming quiet of his large estate was making his thoughts run rampant, and he didn't want to think.

" _An apartment in downtown Austin has burned down to ashes. Police officials say that the fire has likely started as a result of a gas explosion, yet the investigation is still currently ongoing."_

He turned his head to the screen, seeing the devastation that the fire had left behind. Yet surprisingly, only one condo seemed to be destroyed, leaving a big gaping hole in the side of the building. It looked quite funny, were it not that he could hear the news reporter say that there were casualties.

If only it had been him. He wouldn't mind passing over now.

When the camera zoomed out, however, he noticed that it was the exact same apartment building that he had dropped Ms. Lisbon at the day before. He felt something heavy pushing on his stomach, and already moved to grab the car keys.

He knew she would die eventually. But he hadn't thought she would go like this. And even still, somewhere deep down, he wished it could have been him instead.

~...~

Arriving at the crime scene, he found a lot of people circling the building, basically massively standing in the way of paramedics performing their jobs. Well, paramedics - there was one ambulance, two firefighter trucks, and one police car. Mr. Bertram's men were putting a body in a hearse, so he realized that this was in fact related to the company.

He put his car in the middle of the street, not caring about any tickets he might get.

He was interested. Would this be a similar way for him to pass over? Would he be next? They had been in the office signing the contract at roughly the same time, so it wouldn't even be such a surprise. Not anymore.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice from the crowd, yet the conversation was impossible to be heard. He searched the people, eventually finding none other than Ms. Lisbon standing at the front of the crowd, pointing at the apartment, being obviously shaken but still talking to what undoubtedly were her neighbors.

 _Oh._

He let the information sink in, then let out a breath of what appeared to be relief.

 _Thank God_ , was all he could come up with. He leaned back in his car seat, taking in a deep breath, and started the engine, when he saw her turn around and walk towards him.

"Mr. Jane! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just in the neighborhood."

She looked down at his body, cracking a smile. "In your pajamas?"

He looked down, too, finding that he was indeed still dressed in his pajamas. Man, what an impression this must be.

"I was wondering, Ms. Lisbon," he started, diverting the conversation from his obviously big mistake of attire, "I noticed yesterday that you have an interest in vintage cars."

The smile from before was still in her eyes when she continued talking, but he noticed she would let it slide. She moved her eyes to look at his car.

"A 1972 Black Tulip, impressive."

"I was wondering if you would take a drive in it with me? I could show you my other cars, too."

"Right now?"

"Yes, why not?"

She nodded and brushed her ponytail away from her collarbone, already moving towards the passenger's seat.

"I would love to."

~...~

She was pleasant company, he had to admit. It delighted him that he had met someone like her in the last days of his life. At least he would have something to think of during his final moments, when life was supposed to flash before your eyes, something fun, at least.

Minelli was awaiting them when they arrived at his estate, tending to his flowers like usual, greeting them while they passed by. They had only barely had enough time to get out of the car, when Minelli walked towards them.

"Mr. Jane, while you were out, Mr. Cho called. He needs you at his office.'

Jane nodded. "Did he say why?"

"I'm afraid not."

Minelli's eyes landed on Ms. Lisbon, who was listening to their conversation with a slight sense of awkwardness.

"Teresa Lisbon, this is Virgil Minelli. Virgil Minelli, Ms. Teresa Lisbon."

"Nice to meet you, Miss. Mr. Jane? Your car is waiting for you."

He turned to Ms. Lisbon.

"I'm sorry for this, I promise we'll go drive some more when I get back."

"Of course. Don't worry about it."

Jane looked down at his clothing, and he saw Ms. Lisbon smiling from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm coming, Minelli. Let me just put something on."

~...~

Virgil Minelli thoroughly inspected her, as though he was trying to look into her very soul to judge her intentions.

Patrick Jane had just left their company, putting on some clothes instead of his pajamas, and it had left her alone with this strange, but seemingly nice man.

"Ms. Lisbon, excuse my mingling, but it is not common for Mr. Jane to bring a lady home with him. May I ask, how did you two meet?"

"At a travel agency."

"Travel agency? So he _is_ going away to travel?"

"He hasn't told you?"

"He hasn't confirmed it. And I dare say, I know everything about his life."

His life. This wasn't about his life, though - this was about his death. She didn't know how much his friends and relatives knew about his contract, so she wouldn't disclose any of it without his consent.

"Oh. Well, then I'm sure he'll inform you soon."

He nodded and guided her inside, where she was met by large paintings and pictures of countless of people, some of them seemingly decades old, others more recent. Mr. Minelli left for a while, so she roamed the hallways of the immense estate Patrick Jane owned.

She was impressed. She had already pegged him as a rich man, considering he had shown her two expensive vintage cars already and had no doubt many more in store to show her.

She ended up at one particular picture that took her attention. It was of a beautiful, dark blonde woman and an adorable little girl by her side. Their smiles were radiant, showing whichever viewer that they loved life, and each other. The woman seemed to have a tight grip on the girl, but still appeared to be leaving her leeway. She just wanted to prevent the girl from slipping from the seat, no doubt.

"Can I help you with something, Ms. Lisbon?"

She turned and found Mr. Minelli standing behind her, a small smile on his lips. Was it rude to ask him who these people were on the pictures? He came to stand beside her, looking at it, too.

"It's a painful chapter in Mr. Jane's life," Mr. Minelli started. "He was married once. Angela Ruskin Jane, the love of his life. I have never before seen a man so smitten, so amazed by a single human being. They had a daughter, Charlotte. She was even the light of _my_ life. She could charm everybody into getting whatever she wanted, with her endless golden curls and her fantastic smile. But as one would say, all good things eventually come to an end… they died. It ended Mr. Jane. He hasn't really lived after that, and it has been ten years. He hasn't felt… anything. No sadness, not even anger. He is just numb to it all."

That sounded… horrible. Nobody should be put through that, but especially not him. She hadn't known him for too long, but she already saw that he was a nice man, polite, well-mannered, albeit a bit odd. Perhaps this devastating loss explained why he was so distant.

"Don't tell him that I told you all this, he will kill me. But I just figured, since it's so rare for him to bring someone home, you must be special in his eyes."

That touched her. But it didn't matter - he would die anyway, and so would she eventually.

~...~

Kimball Cho, his personal lawyer and closest friend, had found an interested buyer of his estate, since Jane had told him that he wanted to sell the place a few days ago. Jane had met with them, heard about their plans. They wanted to start a 'Life Extension Program' here, ironically. It came down to being about botox and facelifts, but whatever. He didn't have to care about it any longer.

She was inspecting his collection of cars when he returned. He kept being impressed with how interested in them she was.

"You found anything that suits you?"

She turned to him, not having noticed that he had entered the room.

"What will happen to them when you're gone?"

"They'll be sold to the highest bidder."

She turned away. "That's sad."

"I don't have any use for them after my journey."

"True. But it's still sad."

He looked at her face while she carefully inspected all of his cars. There was something about her that interested him, that had interested him from their first time meeting. He hadn't given his thoughts further meaning given his planned departure. Perhaps she was more interesting than he had thought at first.

"You want to drive one of them?"

"May I?" She smiled as though he had told her that she had just won the lottery, and it made him smile, too.

"Of course. I can't take them with me."

She walked to one particular vehicle with open arms.

"Classic Lamborghini. V-12 engine, zero to 60 in what, 4 seconds? I don't like the color, though. Why yellow?"

He laughed and shrugged. "It was a gift from a friend of mine."

"Give me a friend who gifts expensive cars."

"Ms. Lisbon, do you want to talk or drive? We're not getting any younger."

When they drove away from his estate with an alarming speed, he regretted everything in his life until that point.

"How come you know so much about cars?" he asked her, in an attempt to make her drive a little slower.

"Grew up with three brothers. Having an adoration for cars was about the only way of getting some attention."

Although he doubted that she minded, seeing as her interest appeared genuine.

~...~

They had driven to the outskirts of town, where they found a little park of which neither of them knew the existence.

He had quickly gathered some light snacks and a bottle of wine. He didn't know if she would like wine, but he guessed he could make her try.

"So you're basically royalty?"

"Not really, but I have "regal" blood, as they call it. Nowadays, it just means I have a lot of old money. And I'm required to attend a lot of boring events. I would rather take a nap, instead."

She chuckled and poured both of them a glass, handing one over to him.

"So you met Minelli."

"Uh-huh."

"What're your thoughts?"

"He seems… sad… like he's had a lot to go through and he's… done."

He saw her looking at him, and he sighed.

"Don't tell him I said this, he'll kill me."

After a few moments, he continued.

"I have known Minelli my entire life. When I was little my father hired a nanny because he didn't want to take care of me. Her name was May. From what I've heard, May and Minelli fell in love almost instantly. They married soon, but they never had any kids. She became head of housekeeping eventually. She… passed away last November."

She let this information sink in, then simply nodded.  
"It's that. He misses her."

 _He misses her._

Of course he knew what that meant, and perhaps that was the reason he had shut out the man's feelings like that. Jane was stuck in neutral, where really nothing could hurt him, but nothing could touch him either. Not even in a negative way.

That should also be the reason Minelli had insisted on staying at his estate, even if nobody was left except for them. Jane knew that the old man cared about him, but not that much to stay here. No. May's grave was there, buried in the rose gardens that surrounded the old boathouse. He didn't want to leave May.

"Ms. Lisbon," he tried to change the subject, "I want to teach you how to dance. Think of it as my last thanks to you for making my final days more interesting."

She shook her head. "I really can't dance."

"Perfect. Then we'll start from the beginning."

As he held her in his arms, her tiny hands once again in his, he knew he felt… _something_. Yet he hadn't felt anything for so long that he didn't know what to call them.

If his departure hadn't already been planned, her smile would have added years to his life.

~...~

He stopped by Minelli after dropping off Ms. Lisbon at her home. He wanted to make sure the old man was okay.

He was tending the roses surrounding her grave, sometimes touching her tombstone lovingly, like he used to touch her cheek.

"Why aren't you home?" Jane asked eventually. Minelli didn't even bother to look up or even answer him.

"Will you drink some tea with me?"

It took minutes for Minelli to respond in any way, and when he did, he merely shrugged.

Eventually they sat inside the old boathouse, where it was instantly obvious to Jane that Minelli had been living here for quite some time.

"May I ask you a question about May?"

"No words could possibly stop you if you've set your mind on it."

"When you met her… did you immediately… like her?"

"Of course. She was the most beautiful woman I have ever know."

"And… did you know that it was her you wanted to marry?"

Minelli looked at him.

"I didn't know anything anymore. But surely, Patrick, you must know what that means."

"It's… been too long. I try to think back to that time, but… I don't feel anything anymore. Maybe with everything that has happened, it isn't a bad thing."

They were silent for a while, drinking their tea. Minelli was the first to talk.

"What has sparked this conversation?"

"I don't know. It's just… these past few days have been very… confusing to me. I feel something but I don't know what it is. I nearly died yesterday. Almost got run over by a truck. Just before it, at the very last moment, I felt something… inside of me."

"Was it fear?"

"It was just… really weird."

"Well… perhaps you were afraid of losing something." He finished his tea. "In any case, sometimes to just feel is more important than to know the description of it."

Minelli was right, of course. The feeling Teresa Lisbon gave him didn't necessarily need to have a word attached to it. Just to feel, was now enough to make Jane smile.

After their tea, Jane returned to the estate, and instantly got on the phone with Cho.

"Cho, I want an exclusion in the sale. The old boathouse, it won't be included. Minelli will stay there. There will be no bubble baths and botox treatments in his house. I assume you will arrange everything with the buyers. Good night."

~...~

He was looking forward to seeing Teresa Lisbon the next day, for they had made plans to actually go out and dance, to put what she had learned the day before into practice. When she walked out her door in her stunning little black dress, he felt that feeling again, though he still did not know what it could possibly be. Nothing in his life so far had felt like this, so he had no precedent, no comparisons.

She smiled when she saw his car.

"Old-school Range Rover. Slightly clichéed, but it works." She put her hand underneath his arm. "Let's go dancing."

"I agree. But first, I want to go someplace else."

She frowned, but nodded. "Okay. No problem."

He drove to Mr. Bertram's office, having made up his mind when he had seen her walk towards him just a few minutes ago, and he stopped the engine right in front of the main entrance.

"Teresa, I believe we really need to do something now."

"We?"

"Yes. You and I. We can't go on like this."

"No. No?"

"We need to travel, now. I think we have waited long enough. I will make it very clear to them that they need to stick to their promises. No more delays. Not next week, not tomorrow, but right _now_."

He got out of the car, seeing her confused and slightly panicked face. He didn't hesitate when he walked into the building, and Mr. Bertram didn't seem surprised to see him.  
"Mr. Jane, always a pleasure. How can I help?"

"I would like to postpone my journey."

"Excuse me?"

"Just delay it for a while. Maybe a week. Or a month. Half a year, perhaps. Just… put it off. Only temporarily, of course."

Mr. Bertram let the information sink in, before he laughed. "That's a good one, Mr. Jane. You almost had me fooled. I thought you were serious there for a moment."

"I am."

"No you're not. You're just confused. It happens often with people who are about to travel. It's just a temporary phase."

"Which is why I want to put it off."

"You can't."

"Of course I can. Name your price."

Mr. Bertram's mood seemed to drop at those words, and Mr. Jane wondered whether he had actually said something bad. Mr. Bertram leaned forward in his seat.

"Mr. Jane, this is not about money. With this government in place, we are forced to operate outside of the law. Therefore, we cannot allow for any loose ends. Too many of them could possibly jeopardize our existence. Do you understand me?"

"But you have to understand my situation. See, I met someone."

Mr. Bertram sighed and crossed his arms. "Oh dear."

"Well… not just someone."

"Oh dear." Mr. Bertram looked towards his computer screen, then shook his head. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear."

"Someone very special."

"Mr. Jane, are you not aware of our rule regarding socializing with other clients?"

"I am."

"Never mind." Mr. Bertram stood and straightened his jacket. Jane was left looking at the older man while he towered over him. "Let me just discuss this with my associates, and see if they can do something to… alleviate this dilemma."

Jane stood, too. "Thank you. You're a good man."

Something about this entire situation had seemed off a few moments into the conversation, but he had let it slide at first. This was an odd business to be in, so perhaps the job had changed Mr. Bertram. But Jane's suspicions had been confirmed when Mr. Bertram had started about socializing with other clients.  
They must know that he meant Ms. Lisbon. Still, it shouldn't be too much to worry about. He was certain they could make an exception in the whole 'no contact between clients' policy. After all, he could pay the company well to uphold both their contracts.

He started pacing the room a few moments after Mr. Bertram had left, looking out of the window at his Range Rover. It was a shame he couldn't see her sitting there. He hoped that his newest treaty would bring them some good things.

He turned around and saw the other side of the computer screens, curious now to see what Mr. Bertram had been staring at before he had left. He was shocked to see actual video of him and Teresa in the park from the day before, dancing, his arms around her tightly.

He got a sinking feeling in his stomach. Had Mr. Bertram been filming them all this time? And why did he do this?

Other images included a possible life feed of the next room, where Jane saw Mr. Bertram discussing something with the men in black. One of them opened a drawer, to reveal a big collection of guns from which he picked up one.

Jane hurried towards the door where Mr. Bertram had passed through, but he found it was locked.

Alright. So something fishy was definitely going on here, and he didn't like it. His suspicions were definitely confirmed at this point, and he feared the worst. He needed to get out of here and get Teresa to safety.

He rushed to the elevator, but instead of it going down like he wanted it to, it only went up. He arrived at the same floor where he had met Teresa, surrounded by all these coffins, yet whereas the previous time he had certainly settled for his cold and lonely death, this time around, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to die.

He heard voices from the stairs, and looked around himself. He needed to hide, because he was certain that Mr. Bertram's men in black suits would be chasing him to finish the job. Just as the door opened, he managed to shut one coffin and hide behind another.

"Mr. Jane, I'm so sorry that it has to go this way. If you just surrender peacefully, we won't have to hurt you too badly."

There was no way he would surrender. Not after what he had learned about their secret espionage.

"The 1998 hardwood Sterling. Excellent choice, Mr. Jane. Please accept our humble apologies."

Jane heard three gunshots, after which he let the coffin he was hiding behind fall forward, fortunately right on top of the black-clad man. Jane's heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he saw the chaos he had ensued over this man, but it was collateral damage. He had to get out of here.

Finally managing to exit the building, hearing how more of Mr. Bertram's men were trying to get to him, he ran to the car and just before stepping inside, regained his composure. He looked at Teresa, who was confused and still a little panicky, and he started the car's ignition.

"I took care of it, don't worry."

"What?"

"I think we're at the top of the list now."

With that, he hurried off, already seeing Mr. Bertram's men exiting the building in search for him.

After a few blocks, Teresa turned to him.

"Patrick, I don't know about you, but I really had a lot of fun yesterday."

"Me too."

"So why the rush to travel?"

He didn't answer her, but rather saw a big black van tailing them quite aggressively, and he needn't check the insides to know that the men in black were onto them. He picked up speed, turning into a sidestreet in the hope to shake them off, but of course they followed him swiftly.

Teresa gasped. "No you didn't."

She looked behind them, then after a few seconds back to him.

"They're shooting at us. They're shooting! That's against the rules!"

He didn't have time to answer her, again, as he still tried desperately to shake them off.

"Let me drive," she stated while taking off her high heels. He was shocked and entertained at the same time, before he realized their predicament.

"I can't stop driving now, they'll definitely kill us then."

"Oh, we don't need to stop driving." With which she nearly expertly sat on his lap, taking over the pedals and steering wheel, before pushing him out of the seat. He fell into the passenger's seat, now more shocked than entertained, looking at her handling the car with near perfection. It was clear to him in that moment that he could own every car in the world, she would always be a better driver than him. Well, not necessarily a _better_ driver, more like an _aggressive_ driver, but it did the trick.

She took some sharp turns, drifted through the streets, and after a few blocks it seemed they had gotten rid of the associates.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she mumbled.

"Me neither."

Eventually, she drove into a parking garage, having spotted the black van again, and climbed to one of the top floors. The garage wasn't all that high, but Jane knew that a fall from that height would break a couple of bones. She stopped suddenly, looking around her.

"Teresa, there's something I need to tell you."

"Shh."

"I'm sorry I have put you in this situation-"

"Shut up."

She reached for her seatbelt, fastening it, and his heart started racing. If she hadn't needed a seatbelt during this whole ordeal up to this point, why would she need it now?  
"I'm sorry about your car."

And with those words, he fastened his seatbelt, too, fearing the worst.

When the black van approached, Teresa took one deep breath, before crashing his Range Rover right into the side of the van, causing the latter vehicle to crash over the edge of the floor, tumbling down several floors and landing on the ground at the foot of the building. She covered her mouth, obviously shocked at what she had just done, but still exited the vehicle and ran away, high heels in her hands. It took a few seconds before he realized he should probably follow her, although a stinging feeling in his lower left leg made him slower than her.

He caught up with her in the stairwell, and she had seemingly overcome her shock and was now smiling at him, before she noticed he was hopping on his good leg.

"Are you okay?"

"You have hidden qualities, Teresa."

She grabbed his hand with one of hers, while the other supported his arm. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, so he knew his leg would hurt way more in a couple of minutes, but it was just enough for him to follow her. The feel of her hand in his did unspeakable things to him, like it had before, and he didn't want to let go, not even when she stopped a cab and they had to get in. After this near-death experience, he didn't want to be alone.

Once seated, he squeezed her hand.

"I'm really sorry for bringing you into this situation."

She shook her head.

"No. It's good of you to ask them to come after us. It took too long."

"I didn't. I asked for a delay."

"You did what? Why?"

"I don't know. But after yesterday… I'm just… confused."

She was quiet for a while, no doubt thinking over what she could say. All she was left with was, "Me too. But it doesn't mean that we will call off our journey… right?"

"Oh, no. Just… temporarily."

She nodded. "Until we're not confused anymore."

And really, the fact that she had confessed that she was confused, too, only made him more confused. What was it that he was feeling? If only he knew how to categorize it, no doubt it would be easier to deal with. But all he was left with was her hand in his, grounding him, calming him down while his leg started throbbing painfully.

"I know an old fishing house far away from here. I used to come there with Minelli when I was younger. Perhaps we could hide there for the moment?"

She nodded. They settled into a comfortable silence, their hands still entwined.

~...~

They had to walk the last part to the shed, it honestly being the best place to escape from the raging world. He had never been here with anyone other than Minelli, so to bring Teresa here felt a little odd, although not much.

It had started raining of course, and he had offered to hold her shoes for her, which she had declined. She had, however, agreed to using his coat as an umbrella.

Once inside, he had struggled to make some appropriate tea for them, considering there was no plumbing nor electricity in the shed. He had miraculously found a closed bottle of water and a lighter, which enabled him to heat up the water. He had always kept teabags in the cupboards just in case.

"It amazes me that even in this dire situation, you know how to prepare tea."

"It's a matter of survival."

She chuckled and hung his coat at the coatrack, before sitting down and watching him. There was something in her eyes that wasn't there before, and like everything regarding her, he couldn't explain it. Perhaps sympathy, or maybe something more.

The pain in his leg rose to a crescendo now, and it forced him to look at it. A little awkwardly, he moved his pants down so he could take a better look, and found a considerably deep cut in his shin, which made him sigh. This had to be treated, but he didn't have any medical equipment here.

"Patrick?"

"Hmm?"

"I have to confess something."

His heart started beating frantically, worrying what she could mean. He nodded.

"Mr. Minelli told me about… your wife."

"Oh. That."

He stood and pulled up his pants. He would treat the wound another time.

"I'm really sorry for your loss."

"No, you don't need to be sorry. It happened a long time ago. I… I would say I'm over it, but that's not really the truth. But… I guess I sort of know that nothing I do can change it. So why bother?"

She remained silent and looked at him, sipping her tea. Should he tell her everything that was to tell in that specific story? He hadn't known her for long but knew that she was trustworthy. Then again, she hadn't really broken his trust yet, nor proven that she could be trusted. But she was a nice person, and he would probably die soon, even if he didn't want to anymore, not as badly as he used to.

"They were killed," he started. That seemed to get her attention. "They didn't just die. A serial killer named Red John took their lives. Well… I took his. And I haven't been feeling a lot since then. I know that." _But with you_ , he wanted to add… no, he couldn't. He would bring her down with him, and she deserved better than that.

She seemed to sense that he was finished, at least for the moment, because she grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently, letting him know that she was there. It did so much to him, feeling her presence beside him. If only she knew what he was feeling.

She stood, gathered their cups and placed them on a box out of sight, after which she stood in front of the windows looking over the small fishing pond. He only now noticed the state she was in - her hair was disheveled, her dress slightly out of place, and she was still barefoot, which knowing her was definitely intentional. This was about the first time she had dressed formally since their acquaintance, so it likely wasn't common for her to dress like this.

"They're standing there," she stated, putting her finger to the glass. "Probably waiting until we leave the shed to kill us."

"Then we'll stay inside."

"We'll starve eventually." She paused. "Well, I think we would die anyway."

He smiled and looked around the room, judging to see if there was anywhere more comfortable she could sit down instead of the wooden boxes they were using now. He found her small clutch where she had just sat, and it was opened slightly, the contents facing away from him. He got up and moved to put them back together, when he noticed-

A gun. A shining black Glock, smiling right back at him, laughing at him even. It didn't need to mean anything, but she had brought this gun to go dancing. His stomach dropped, and he felt all of his feelings launch themselves right at him, hitting him right in the face.

"I'm so sorry," he heard her whisper, and he turned around, gun in hand. "I… I'm really sorry. I had to kill you, but let me explain."

"Sorry about what?" He raised the gun, all of the past few days forgotten. She had turned out to be just like everybody else, breaking his heart, his trust, everything that was left of him, as though they couldn't see that he was broken already, broken beyond repair. But this, this was the final blow. "You know what? Just do it. Just get it over with."

He handed her the gun, feeling her hand touch his one last time.

"I was already ready for it, but now I'm definitely certain."

When she didn't move, he reached for the gun again, but she grabbed his arm and twisted it around, almost dislocating it, and he yelled out in pain.

"No," was all she said for a moment. When she continued, he could tell she was emotional, but he didn't know why. "I want you to know, Patrick, that 90, no, 95 percent of what I have told you, about me and about my life, is true. My feelings, too."

"Like what? Like, _are you here for my surprise? Are you my means of departing? Maybe we were destined to pass over together._ "

"You said it didn't matter. You said nothing mattered."

"Well, it does now!"

His heart broke when he saw how much his yelling was influencing her, but he knew now that she couldn't be trusted, that she had lied to him about everything, even if she had said that most of what she had told him was the truth. That was probably a lie, too.

He couldn't believe himself. He had jeopardized his entire journey for her, and in the end, it had turned out she wasn't even worth it.

She remained as quiet as he was, while he felt anger in his stomach, building up and preparing to out itself. If she wouldn't leave soon, he would probably do something he would later regret.

"You're angry."

He frowned, his anger temporarily put off. He looked at her.

"What?"

"You're angry."

"No I'm not."

"You look like you're angry."

"I'm not angry, and I don't get angry. I don't have it in me, I just explained."

"Yes, I heard, but-"

"I'M NOT ANGRY!"

She took a few steps back, but he didn't mistake this for her being scared. She was as likely to get scared as he was to get angry. Okay, well maybe he was a little angry, if his sudden breakdown could be any indication, but he felt it was totally justified. She had hurt his feelings by lying to him, by wasting his time, so he felt he had all reason to be angry.

"Alright. You're not angry. So then you didn't laugh either yesterday while we were dancing."

"Yesterday? It was the biggest mistake of my life," he spat out, and those words hit her, and for a moment he wondered whether she was still that woman he had pegged her to be, kind, sensitive, before this stupid gun had torn everything down.

She turned around, her hands in fists by her side, and he saw black for a moment, realizing that all of the hope that he had been feeling these past few days was lost on him, before she turned back around. In her eyes, he found pure anger, frustration and something else he couldn't put his finger on.

She closed the distance between them, took hold of the lapels of his jacket, and kissed him. Only for a second, because she let him go, looking into his eyes, still undoubtedly angry, before kissing him again for just a few seconds.  
He was done. Her lips against his had nearly explained all of his feelings, and he just had to know the description now, so he cupped her cheeks and pulled her close, linking their lips again. Her hands rested on his waist, and while he still felt anger inside her tiny body, and in his own, he felt most of it was dissolving in that moment, as their lips moved against each other.

Love. It had been love. These past few days, every time he had had that feeling that he couldn't explain, it had been love. He hadn't felt that in a decade, the feeling long lost to him, the feeling unexpected and yet so welcome. He hadn't known that he would get to feel this again, but with her in his arms, he felt he had a future again. Even if it could be short-lived, it was enough to last him in the afterlife he didn't believe in.

When she pulled away to get some air, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her delicious perfume, which was ultimately her, more than her dress, or the accessories she wore.

She was meant to kill him, but had given him life, instead.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. He shook his head. "I want to explain."

"You can do it later. I just ask of you not to kill me while I'm kissing you."

She smiled, even if he saw there were tears in her eyes. For good measure, he kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her waist this time, while she wrapped hers around his neck.

He really loved her. Even if they had only known each other for a couple of days, and even if she had broken his heart by being his intended assassin, he really loved her. He couldn't be helped.

~...~

She was resting against his side, his arm around her waist, and he felt at peace, no matter what would be awaiting them. He felt he could do anything with her by his side.

"I promised I would have you in the morgue by three pm."

"I would like to stay here a little longer."

She looked up at him, her dark brown hair falling from his shoulder, like waves pulling back from a rock. It reminded him of the first time they had met - above anything else, her hair had stood out first, pulling him in, before discovering everything else that was there to discover about her.

"We'll stay here forever, then."

"It might not be the end of the world." At least he would have had the attention of this woman in his arms, even if it was short-lived. "Anyway, I never focused on the future. I will lose the estate, unless I call off the sale."

She sat up straight, using both of her hands on his chest as leverage to stay up, and he looked at her.

"You can call off the sale? You can keep it? Everything? The estate, the cars?"

It took a few seconds for it to sink in, but when it did, he reached for his phone.

"I can." He was shocked at it himself, but he suddenly realized that Cho had granted him 24 hours in which he could still change his mind about everything. Jane had shaken off the thought because he had been dead certain that he would be, well, dead by that time, but now that he had Teresa to spend time with, suddenly multiple doors opened. "I have to call Cho."

"I don't think you have any service here."

"Then we have to leave."

He already moved to get up, when he heard the cocking of a gun. For a second, he feared that he was once again betrayed, when he saw her point her gun at him.

"Sit still."

She aimed at his head first, before raising the gun and firing two shots, which sent the bullets flying narrowly past his head. He almost swore, when he saw her put her finger against her lips. She might be a little dangerous to be around, he realized, but he would take it.

~...~

With his quick mind and her survival instincts, they somehow managed to get around the obvious trap the men had set for them, and while he always prided himself on remembering every little detail, he couldn't quite remember how they had escaped.

"Patrick?" she started. He looked to his side, almost tripping over a rock as a result. Her hand reached out to hold his arm. "Despite everything that might be going on in your head right now, I want you to know that my feelings are genuine. Okay? I… I understand that it might be tough to believe it, but…"

She took in a deep breath.

"The family that took me and my brothers in… it was Mr. Bertram's. He never forced us to join the company, we just… sort of rolled into it. I still don't know why I did it, I have a good job besides this one, but… the idea of giving people what they wanted, even if it was by killing them, interested me. In return, it gave me a way to turn off my feelings, too, focus on other people's feelings instead. I never should have taken on your case, but there was something inside me that told me I could perhaps help. And, uhm…" She shook her head.

"It's just that I saw you, and… there was something pulling me towards you. More than the duty of the job, it was an interest to be around you, perhaps even an attraction. A childish one, I would admit, but… I really liked spending time with you. And the longer we did, the more difficult it became to focus on the task at hand. Somewhere, the lines had started blurring, I guess. And I… I guess it might be difficult for both of us, but… I would like to see where this could go."

He stopped in his tracks, and so did she. Her monologue had really served to put some pieces of the puzzle together. She was troubled, like him. She didn't kill people for fun, she killed them because they wanted to be killed. And she really was interested in him, and wanted to see what the future could bring them. That last sentence made his heart leap a little.

He stepped towards her, and she already started smiling, even before their lips met in a kiss. She brushed her fingers over the sides of his face, starting from his forehead, past the wrinkles surrounding his eyes, to his cheeks and eventually his chin.

She was really quite something. Maybe with anybody else in this exact situation, he would have seen through their act and he would have known that they were his surprise all along. Perhaps with anybody else, he wouldn't have invested so much time in spending time with them, all because he liked her smile and her company.

Well, she was his surprise, only not in the way he had intended. It was too early to tell for sure, but she had sparked something inside of him that no other woman had been able to engage in years.

She was the one to pull away, and look him straight in the eyes.

"Bertram will kill me for this."

"I don't think so. I think his accomplices will be first."

She chuckled and nodded. He looked at her face for a few moments, admiring her features, when he realized something.

"These accomplices, are they…"

She sighed and nodded. "My brothers. They take this job too seriously most of the time."

He let the information sink in, then smiled and shook his head.

"I guess, welcome to the family."

"One more thing though which I don't understand… how can Mr. Bertram run a corporation like that when you're in it? You're a police agent, don't you have a duty to report anyone breaking the law?"

She nodded and sighed. "

"My boss knows about it… in a way. He, uh, doesn't have any way of convicting the business because there's never any evidence. And because the people choose to step out of life, should a prosecutor want to charge Bertram, there would be so many loopholes that it would just be a waste of time and money."

It still didn't make a lot of sense to Jane, but he guessed it never would. He really didn't want to focus on that right now. Instead, he chose to be busier with her presence.

~...~

They arrived at Cho's office eventually, having taken a cap back into the city center, Jane all the while calling Cho to update him. If only his trusted friend would pick up the phone.

Storming into the building, he should have been surprised to see Teresa's brothers awaiting them in the lobby, arms crossed and guns ready.

"I'll take care of this," she whispered. "You go save your estate."

She looked at him with such a gentle smile, and he would have kissed her if she hadn't already focused on her brothers, pinching the nose of one of them, before giving them an immense telling off.

He left her alone so he could talk to Cho.

"I want to call off the entire sale."

Cho was the one man you could depend on not to show a single emotion on his face. It was a common rumor that the man didn't even feel anything to begin with. Which was possibly the reason why said man was so damn good at being a lawyer.

Even now, Cho didn't let any emotion show.

"You want to call it off."

"Yes, I have changed my mind. I won't be traveling anymore, so I need somewhere to stay. The estate is still in my possession, so just… call the prospective buyers and blow the entire thing off."

Cho sat down at his desk and averted his eyes, then took in a deep breath.

"Okay."

He knew Cho wasn't even the slightest bit interested in Jane's personal life, so he wouldn't explain what had made him change his mind. He had a feeling, however, that Cho already knew.

"You deserve to be happy," was all Cho stated. He opened his laptop and started typing, as well as calling somebody on the phone. "Consider it done."

Jane looked at his quiet friend, wondering what was going on in that head of his, before realizing that he had tried for years to figure that out but still hadn't succeeded in doing so. Jane knew what most people were thinking, but there was room in that rule for some exceptions. Like Kimball Cho, and more recently, Teresa Lisbon.

He sat down and sighed.

"I really like her. I haven't felt like this in a long time." _Not since Angela._

Cho nodded. "Good for you, Jane. Don't screw it up."

"I'll try not to."

Cho dismissed him curtly by simply ignoring him like he usually did, and Jane returned to the lobby, where he found all of the men in black surrounding Teresa and -

Mr. Bertram.

He did not look happy to see Jane, already taking steps towards him, when one mere hand of Teresa's against his chest stopped him.

"I know it's against the rules, and I know you despise him. But… I like him. A lot. And I would like to spend some more time with him, so I hope you will understand that I can't send him on his journey anymore."

Mr. Bertram remained silent for a while, still looking at Jane, then at Teresa, and let out a simple sigh.

"I guess, from the moment I took you four in, I always knew that a moment like this would occur. I never could have expected it to be you, Teresa. I always thought you would be above arbitrary things like that. But, I can't deny you what you want. So if he's what you want, then by all means… go for it."

She smiled and kissed the top of his hand, before turning to Jane. One of her brothers stepped in, no doubt adding some more words to Mr. Bertram's.

"If you hurt her, I swear, I will kill you myself."

"That's only fair." Jane nodded. "I would probably do the same."

Bertram nodded curtly to both Lisbon and Jane, before straightening his jacket. He left with some weak excuse about having a business meeting, but Jane supposed that they had already drawn a lot of attention to them and Bertram wanted to minimize the risk of being caught. Teresa's brothers tailed behind him like puppies except for the brother who had told Jane off, and eventually he and Teresa were left alone.

She looked at him.

"How did it go with Mr. Cho?"

"He'll take care of everything." He paused for a while, looking at her, too. "I could always live in that old fishing house."

"What about all your stuff, though?"

He shook his head. "It was never important to me. Nothing of it. I could be living in a carton box and I'll be just as happy as right now."

She smiled, and he couldn't hold it in anymore, he had to kiss her. Although he spared her an embarrassment of making out in public, he did kiss her cheek, then held her face in between his hands and kissed one corner of her lips.

"Let's see what trouble we can make, you and I. I still haven't taken you out to a proper dance."

She chuckled and linked their hands. "I can't wait, Mr. Jane."

While he lost contact of one of her hands due to them walking out of the office building, he never let go of the other, feeling the beauty of her as a human being flowing into him. It felt like a big happy send-off, them walking towards their sunset and never looking back.

And perhaps it was true. They had met, against all odds, and he had fallen for her, big time. And he almost had trouble remembering how he had felt before her, how ready he had been to end it all, end the suffering. Now she was by his side, and he felt he could do anything.

~...~

They didn't get to do a lot of dancing, even if the threat of death was nowhere to be seen and there was no outsider interrupting them. He held her in his arms, and he felt himself give in to his need to cherish her, kiss her when he could. Bit by bit, the pieces were starting to fall together to form one massive picture of her, in all her beauty and kindness, and he was already falling deeply for her. He had kept that door tightly shut, not always willingly but he knew only bad things could come of giving in to these feelings.

But now… he loved her. He knew that now. No matter how early it was, no matter how much she had lied to him, he still did. She was such a good person, and he had never met someone like her before, who interested him like she did, who had found a way to open that closed door. He felt like a teenager madly in love, but it had never felt so good before.

How could he have known that this would happen when he stepped into Bertram's office that fateful day?

They returned to the shed, wanting some time together, and time alone they got. First settling for some tea, she soon got tired of it and instead kissed him, like she meant it. It sent butterflies to his belly to be kissed like this, by someone like her, no, by _her_.

When she slipped in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, he noticed her gun still in her purse, and he froze momentarily. She noticed, of course. When she leveled her gaze with his, she sighed and stood.

"I'm sorry I betrayed your trust. And I will be fighting for a long time to get it back, I guess. I hope you're able to forgive me."

"Forgive you? For what? Doing your job? I should have known sooner what was going on, so I'm partly to blame, too. I always pride myself on knowing what people are thinking, knowing what their intentions are, so you successfully deceived me." He rubbed his forehead for a moment, then looked at her again. "I must admit, it does hurt a little to have found out like this, I would have understood if you had just told me, but… I would like to get to know you in a different light. I hope that you're willing to put down your gun for that."

She looked at her handbag, the gun still in place, before she took in a deep breath, took it in her hands and threw it out the window. He heard it make contact with the water in a loud splash, and he was shocked for a few seconds, looking at the exact window where it had exited the shed, shocked that she had gone to this extent to seemingly show him how serious she was about this. His shock was soon replaced by love and hope, when she slipped once again in his lap and his arms.

"I'm sorry I hurt you like I did. I won't do it again, I promise. I will tell Bertram I'm dropping out of the business. I was getting far too old to be satisfying fairytale-like dreams and wishes, anyway. I will focus more on my job as a CBI officer, and… you. If you'll let me."

He smiled and kissed her, briefly, before looking at her again.  
"There's nothing I would rather let you do."

And with these words escaping his lips, he fell under her spell, her arms closing around him and her lips on his drawing him under the water. But he had fallen already, really, if he was honest with himself. She had sparked his curiosity from the moment she had stepped into his life. He hadn't noticed it at first, had been too busy with his impending death to notice what she was starting to mean to him. Only when he had been forced to face with the fact that he might not want to die after all, had he realized that it had all been because of her. He lived now just to see her smile one more time.

* * *

 **A/N: Very fluffy after all, but still a bit of a surprise, maybe? In the movie, the plottwist was way bigger, but I didn't want to focus so much on Lisbon's point of view, because I was afraid I would give something away about her intentions. So instead, I only gave a brief view into Lisbon's head and the rest was all Jane's!**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know, reviews really make me a happy person!**


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